


That Damn Smile

by Je_Suis_Une_Pomme



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Make-outs, Norway pines, Office AU, all that good stuff, and oh no den is hot, because a pining nor is my favourite flavour, elevator stalls, modern day AU, then yanno stuff happens, they work together yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5867194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Je_Suis_Une_Pomme/pseuds/Je_Suis_Une_Pomme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sindre has a wild crush and pines for his co-worker, Matthias. They are sent on a business trip and things get out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Damn Smile

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a very short one-shot, and the first bit of it was posted on its own... I combined both parts here on AO3 simply for ease - and laziness. (it can be seen separated on FF and my Tumblr) 
> 
> I may continue this further in the future... I do have some thoughts about what happens after the ending here. We'll see!

That damn smile got him every time.

 

Sindre heard his boss tell him that he was sending him on a business trip accompanied by the one and only irritating Matthias. Before he could protest, Matthias’ face split into an excited grin and everything in the room disappeared, his boss’ voice turning to white noise.

 

His heart hammered up into his throat as he stared at that smile. The joy was infectious and he felt his own lips twist into a shape that one might mistake for happiness. That damn smile made his heart stutter and skip, his legs threatened to turn to jelly, and his palms start to sweat. That damn smile had the power to make Sindre (momentarily) forget why he was pissed off at Matthias (like that one time when Matthias had broken his favourite mug with the Norwegian flag on it. And then he replaced it with a _Danish_ one). But not this time – this was too important. He blinked several times and pulled himself together.

 

“Sir,” he cleared his throat. His boss, hand clapped on Matthias’ shoulder, turned to face him. “You can’t send me on an assignment with Andersen.”

 

“Oh? Why not?”

 

“Sir, pardon me, but he’s an _idiot_.” The smile bled away from Matthias’ face and Sindre tried not to notice the guilt-inducing look of betrayal and sadness that replaced it.

 

“Aw, don’t say that Nor,” Matthias whined, using that ridiculous nickname he had given Sindre the moment he found out that he was Norwegian. Sindre scowled.

 

“I appreciate your bluntness, Hansen,” Sindre felt his stomach drop to his shoes as his boss continued to talk, giving him a look that very clearly said he was not to object with the next words out of his mouth, “but you were new in this company once, too. You do good work, and Andersen here has excellent drive. You could both learn something from each other. Now, if you visit Laura on your way out, she will give you your travel and accommodation details.”

 

Dammit.

 

Sindre turned on his heel and exited the office. He heard Matthias thank their boss before hurrying after him.

 

“Laura,” Sindre said coolly, approaching the receptionist’s desk, ignoring Matthias as he caught up and stood unnecessarily close to him. He could practically feel the Dane breathing on his neck. “You have some information for me – _us_?” He could feel Matthias bouncing on the balls of his feet, practically oozing with barely contained excitement; he knew if he were to turn and look over his shoulder, the blonde would be sporting a large, dopey grin. Sindre resisted the urge.

 

“Yeah!” She smiled and held out a large brown envelope. “There’s an itinerary for the conference and a list of important clients that you should attempt to network with. You will also find your plane tickets and hotel reservation details. I’ve already ordered a car to pick you up from the airport upon your arrival.”

 

Sindre accepted the envelope, nodded in thanks, and continued walking to his own office, Matthias shuffling loudly behind him.

 

“Hey,” he called, “hey, Nor, slow down.” Sindre did not. He continued down the hall at a brisk pace and finally reached his door, wrenching it open. “Wait up – _Sindre!_ ”

 

“What?” He spat, whirling around and making sure his face stayed neutral, or at the very least looked as angry as he was trying to feel. Spending three days with Matthias was not exactly how he had envisioned his weekend. It was hard enough working in the same building with his silly crush, now he was expected to travel with him? Likely share accommodation? Attend a conference together where he wouldn’t know anybody else and would be therefore forced to converse with Matthias, possibly eat meals with Matthias, and then potentially attend after parties and a cab ride back to the hotel with Matthias? His palms were slick with sweat at the very thought, his heart threatening to jump out of his throat.

 

“Do you really feel that way about me?” Matthais started to play with the hem of his shirt, hesitating just outside of the threshold of Sindre’s office, uneasy to barge inside like he normally would.

 

“No. Yes.” _You drive me crazy_. Matthias’ face screwed up into something resembling a kicked puppy and Sindre sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “I just don’t think this trip is good idea.”

 

“Oh! I think it’s going to be loads of fun!” The frown disappeared in a blink and was replaced by that damn smile. Sindre froze, drawn in by the happiness and he felt his resolve falter. “I think it’s a great idea to spend some time together away from the office,” Sindre’s heart nearly stopped and he broke out in a cold sweat. That sounded a little too… personal for it to be strictly business “- and I can finally see the great Hansen at work and in his element! They say you’re a god when it comes to networking and wooing clients, Nor.” There it was. Sindre released the breath he had unknowingly been holding and ran a hand through his hair.

 

“We’ll see.” He gave Matthias a look, hoping to convey that he was tired and he had work to do in preparation for their upcoming weekend. Happily, Matthias seemed to catch the hint, and he cheerfully bid him goodbye with the promise to see him very soon.

  
  


* * *

 

 

The plane ride had been bad enough.

 

He wasn't particularly a fan of flying (or closed-in spaces in general), but flying and having your seat-mate be your co-worker and the object of a very significant secret affection was enough to drive Sindre to drink. In fact, he did. He reached across Matthias and passed his credit card to the stewardess and requested, “wine please, white,” the moment the plane was at cruising altitude.

 

“Gosh, Nor,” Matthias huffed a short laugh, “it's not even 10 am!”

 

“I don't like flying,” Sindre said simply, slumping into his seat and looking out the window. He also didn't like sitting with Matthias' elbows and knees dangerously close to brushing up against his own. He was also wearing that cologne that Sindre liked so much... Dammit. His wine arrived and he ignored Matthias as he ordered a second one.

 

.

 

He must have fallen asleep because he was jolted awake when the plane rocked and he reached out to grab the closest thing to him – Matthias' wrist.

 

“Whoa there,” Matthias chuckled; he was wearing a pair of wire-rimmed reading glasses and had a small laptop open on the pullout tray in his lap. “You alright?” He had loosened the tie around his neck and unbuttoned the top buttons of his dress shirt, revealing a collarbone Sindre desired to lick and a simple chain necklace.

 

“Yes, I,” Sindre blinked and the plane lurched again, his grip on Matthias tightening significantly. “I just really don't like flying.”

 

“It's alright,” he actually looked concerned, rather than laughing at him, as Sindre would have expected. “It's just a little turbulence. You know, what I do, I always watch the staff on the plane. If they are still laughing and acting normal,” he pointed down to the end of the aisle where a couple stewardesses were joking around while preparing a snack cart, “then you know everything is fine. It's when they look panicked that you should worry. But, see? Everything's fine. Nothing more than a little bump in the road.” Sindre willed himself to remove his hand from Matthias and ordered a third glass of wine when the drink cart passed by again.

 

The next time he woke up was during the call for passengers to fasten their belts and prepare for landing.

 

The ride in the town car to the hotel, Sindre thought, was awkward. Matthias shuffled papers in his carry-on and Sindre pinched the top of the bridge of his nose, willing his headache blooming in his forehead to go away.

 

Once at the hotel (thankfully, their boss had shelled out enough that they could actually stay at the conference hotel), Sindre half expected some bizarre mix-up with their room and there to only be one bed inside. But of course, when he swiped his key in the lock and the door swung inwards, there were two queen beds separated by squat side tables and a low, narrow dresser. There was also a desk under the window at the foot of one bed, and a cabinet with a TV at the end of the other.  

 

Matthias immediately raced into the room and flopped onto the bed nearest the window, groaning happily as he buried his face in the plush blankets and pillows. Sindre sighed and dropped his bags on the end of the second bed, looking longingly at the desk by Matthias. He didn’t really desire to do any work with Matthias at his back, but he wasn’t convinced he’d get much done with his computer in his lap, his back against the headboard.

 

Sindre made a decision and climbed into his own bed, pulling one of his bags into his lap and fishing out his laptop.

 

“Why not use the desk?” Matthias said, turning onto his back and starfishing across the mattress, head turned and eyes trained intently on Sindre. “Your back is gonna get sore if you work like that.”

 

Sindre nearly refused, but when he looked up and made eye contact, Matthias flashed him that damn smile and his resolve crumbled. He uncurled his legs and made his way to the desk, hyper-aware of Matthias’ eyes tracking his every movement. He forced himself to begin working without looking back over his shoulder, ignoring the man there - he could feel the infectious smile filling the room. It was annoying as it was pleasant. And distracting.

 

“You know,” Sindre sighed after a time, spinning around in his chair to face Matthias, whose knees were hanging off the end of the bed, his arms thrown out on either side. He looked like he was half asleep. “We only have a couple hours before we need to attend the reception party downstairs. You should probably go over the itinerary for the weekend at least.”

 

“What do you think I did while you slept on the plane?” Matthias raised his head, his eyes half-lidded, “It was a five hour flight and you weren’t exactly an engaging seat-mate.” He smirked and Sindre felt something flutter in his chest. He swallowed it down.

 

Unable to think up a suitable response with Matthias looking at him like that, sprawled across the bed, he spun back around and continued to work with new fervor. After an hour ticked by, he stood and stretched, popping his spine, deciding to have a shower. Matthias was asleep.

 

Sindre had his shower. When he reemerged from the bathroom, steam billowing around him as he opened the door, Matthias was still asleep. However, he was curled into a ball and using Sindre’s coat, which had been draped over the back of the desk chair, as a blanket.

 

“Hey,” Sindre nudged his back with his knee, “wake up, idiot. You need to get ready. We should go down for some dinner before going to the conference.”

 

Matthias groaned something incoherent but sat up, Sindre’s jacket sliding off his shoulder and he rubbed his eyes sleepily. He was adorable. And ridiculous for choosing to fall asleep at such a late hour in the afternoon. He’d likely be groggy for the rest of the evening. At least, Sindre would be if he had been the one napping. A minute passed and Matthias was bouncing to his feet, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, like he’d been wide awake for hours. He bounced happily around the room, digging in his luggage for his suit then in and out of the bathroom while he got ready, babbling excitedly about how much he was going to learn and all the potential people he was going to meet. Sindre half listened as he scanned the list of clients his boss wanted them to pin down if given the opportunity.

 

The first night of the conference went much more smoothly than Sindre had anticipated. Matthias was an uncontrollable ball of energy, but he was charismatic, and drew people in with his friendly, open demeanor. However, when it came to topics of importance, like details about their company, he faltered a bit and lost some of his confidence. That’s when Sindre swooped in with a charming smile and well-placed, firm handshake.

 

“I believe what my colleague was going to say…” he cut in smoothly to redirect the pleasant conversation towards business. Then, after work was discussed, Matthias would resume control and leave their contact utterly charmed and sufficiently buttered-up.

 

All this Sodre likely could have achieved by himself, but he had to admit, the pair of them made for a dominating team. By the end of the evening they had their pockets filled with business cards and promises for future opportunities and collaborations after the weekend. Sindre had penciled in at least half-a-dozen lunch meetings to follow-up in the coming weeks.

 

Their boss would be pleased.

 

Sindre knew, as exhausted as he was from the evening’s social affair, he still would not be sleeping much that night. At least, not after having slept through the majority of the plane ride and with Matthias only a few feet away. Especially if their arrival back to the room for the night was any indication. Matthias had immediately peeled off his suit jacket and began to strip, dropping his clothing to the floor unashamed and unconcerned that Sindre was standing in the room with him. Red-faced and staring as more and more skin was revealed; Sindre couldn’t look away. Matthias didn’t stop until he was standing in his underwear and he turned to face him with that damn cheeky smile spread wide across his face.

 

“Sorry, I can’t sleep with too many clothes on! I hope you don’t mind.” He was clearly teasing. Why he was being such a tease, Sindre chose not to dwell on, and simply shook his head and remembered to close his gaping mouth. He wanted to choke out that no, he didn’t mind, by all means, carry on… but his voice was dead somewhere in his throat; he forced himself to turn away, taking deep, calming breaths and went about his own nightly routine. It should be illegal to have such perfect muscles all over one’s body.

 

He excused himself to the small bathroom with his change of clothes; He reemerged, face washed, teeth brushed, wearing shorts and a ratty t-shirt, his suit neatly hanging in it’s zippered case. Matthias had a toothbrush shoved in his mouth and was bending over the bed, tapping away at his laptop open on his bed.

 

Sindre popped a melatonin tablet and settled into his pillows, willing relaxation to come over him. Matthias closed his laptop and wandered towards the bathroom. When he returned, he flicked off the lights and crawled into bed. He mumbled a slurred goodnight and seemed to fall asleep the moment he drew the blankets up to his chin. Sindre sighed heavily. He would have to wait before he fell into blissful unconsciousness.

 

Even with the aid of medication, he still felt like he watched most of the hours tick by during the night. He stared up at the darkened ceiling, listening to Matthias’ quiet, even breaths, jealous of his ability to so sufficiently pass out and, he turned to look at the silhouette of his form curled on the bed, a little jealous of those blankets and pillows. And the mattress. And anything currently in physical contact with him at all, really. Sindre groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. It was going to be a long night.

 

Sindre jerked awake with his alarm blaring. Also, he blinked several times, sitting up and rubbing the side of his face, Matthias was standing next to his bed, holding out a steaming cup of coffee.

 

“Morning’, gorgeous,” he grinned, “you know you snore a bit in your sleep? It’s _adorable_.” It was far too soon after waking to be able to think up any sort of retort to empty flirtations, so Sindre was helpless to only grunt in response and accept the coffee with a sleepy glare.

 

Matthias was wearing slacks and a half-buttoned dress shirt. His hair was still wet from a shower and he smelled like soap and aftershave. Sindre held his mug of coffee to his lips as he watched Matthias button up the rest of his shirt and attempt to tie his tie. He gave up with a huff and raked his hands through his hair.

 

“Give me a minute to wake up and I will tie it for you.” Sindre said around his mug, amused, his voice still thick with sleep. Matthias beamed at him.

 

He coaxed his limbs into working order as he stood. They both got ready for the day, Matthias having been nearly finished by the time Sindre’s alarm blared (how he didn’t stir when Matthias got up would forever remain a mystery). Sindre successfully tied Matthias’ tie with barely-shaking hands - at least, he hoped Matthias didn’t notice their shaking. His breath only hitched in his chest when he smoothed his hand down the tie, very aware of the feeling of Matthias’ chest and abdomen, wiping away any wrinkles, “there, all finished,” he said and stepped away. How domestic. The butterflies in his gut roared to life, threatening to crawl up his throat. He chewed on his bottom lip to keep them at bay.

 

The new day had brought stormy weather. Sindre glanced through the curtains of the hotel room and shivered at the onslaught of rain, turning the snow on the sides of the roads to freezing slush. The early morning sky was dark with heavy clouds.

 

Sindre and Matthias were served a simple breakfast as they sat down to the first round of dry presentations from various key companies; it was bad enough that seemingly all the presenters for the morning had chosen to dim the lights and use projectors so early in the day, but the topics of discussion were, in Sindre’s professional opinion, weak at best. He was not getting anything out of this. Matthias, however, was surprisingly engaged as he took notes by hand, writing furiously with his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Sindre resisted the urge to continuously stare at him - to marvel his easy eagerness, he told himself, and not because he was admiring at the handsome angles of his face. He was so new to this kind of work and still had his enthusiasm. A few years of attending the same sort of conference and he’d likely lose his zeal.

 

By the time a break was called, Sindre was half asleep again. During any function that promoted mingling and networking, as a general rule, he avoided coffee. Nobody liked to get close and discuss business with someone who had coffee breath. Thus, he was restricted to sipping on bland tea throughout the morning which did not pack the punch that he needed to stay focused.

 

The second half of presentations were just as dull as the first, and when lunchtime rolled around, Sindre was dangerously close to breaking his ‘No Coffee’ policy.

 

“Hey, Nor,” Matthias leaned on his elbow, turning to face Sindre, “wanna go grab lunch somewhere? I just need to get out of the hotel for a bit.” Sindre blinked at him. This was exactly what he had feared when his boss announced that he’d be going with Matthias, of all the people in their company, to this conference. Looking around their immediate vicinity, there were no faces familiar enough to invite along with them. Going out for lunch with Matthias _alone_ felt a little too non-work-related, despite the fact there were here for work reasons…this didn’t seem to matter in his reeling mind. “I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I can always go grab something by myself. I just-”

 

“No!” Sindre gasped, realizing he’d almost waited too long to think up some sort of response, “no, that’s fine, we can go.” He stood and gathered his things, trying not to feel like an awkward teenager at the prospect of _dining out_ with the _object of his affections_. Matthias’ face, having darkened to show concern a moment ago, brightened again with a wide smile. His eyes crinkled at the corners and he made a happy noise somewhere in the back of his throat. Sindre’s stomach flipped. “Where - what do you want to eat?”

 

“Oh gosh, I dunno. How much time do we have? An hour? Let’s just wander down the street and see what we can find.” He suggested this so easily, like there was no doubt in his mind they’d eventually find food. Sindre would not consider himself to be a spontaneous person, he functioned much better within some sort of structure, but he felt himself nodding at this proposal and he stepped away from the table, waiting for Matthias to follow.

 

They had both failed to take into account the severity of the weather outside of the hotel.

 

“We could just eat here, you know,” Sindre suggested as Matthias looked gloomily out of the lobby doors. He laughed.

 

“Nosense! A little rain never hurt anybody! It’ll be an adventure. Come on!” He reached down and grabbed Sindre’s hand and yanked him out of the building and into the chilly, torrential downpour.

 

The winter wind was biting and relentless, making it impossible to shield oneself from the freezing rain. They only made it a block away before Matthias pulled them into a coffee shop, soaking wet and laughing. Matthias released Sindre’s hand and pushed his now flattened, wet hair out of his eyes, his cheeks were flushed.

 

“Isn’t this fun?” he cried, then turned towards the inside of the shop, observing what sorts of things they might find to eat there.

 

“No,” Sindre said, shivering. He was smiling, despite himself. It was warm inside, and cozy, the floors dark walnut wood. All the tables and chairs had a reclaimed look to them, but the seats were covered with plush velvet and looked inviting. The menu was written in hand on a giant chalkboard behind a long serving counter with a mahogany-coloured granite top. It smelled like coffee and bran muffins and something savory that Sindre couldn’t quite put his finger on. Some jazz music played softly in the background, just loud enough to be heard between lulls in conversation by the dozen other patrons scattered through the establishment.

 

They ordered their food, Sindre having a chai tea latte and butternut squash soup. Matthias found them a table by the window and plunked himself, his hot chocolate, and his towering reuben sandwich across from where Sindre settled.

 

He tried desperately to steer the conversation towards work, but Matthias was, annoyingly, having none of that. He kept being bothersome and pushy, asking Sindre personal questions about his interests, his dreams for the future, and even his childhood. It was hard not to ask Matthias to respond to similar questions, and thoughts of work quickly drained out of Sindre’s mind, random trivia about Matthias consuming every thought in his head. He liked chocolate, but not dark chocolate, Matthias thought dark chocolate was horrifying. Matthias played many sports as a kid, but never took them very far, had always wanted to learn to play piano, but never did. He spoke English in school and Danish at home with his parents and siblings. He loved the summertime and summer activities. He always wished he could draw, but was never skilled in it. He’d been to several countries, having backpacked across several before college. Matthias’ favourite colour was red and he preferred his tea and coffee “thoroughly polluted with cream and sugar” rather than straight black, like Sindre. “You like your coffee naked!” Matthias had laughed, and Sindre blushed.

 

Matthias asked him if he had always wanted this kind of career, or if he had simply fallen into it (like he had). Matthias asked about his family, his sibling, his relationship with them all. He asked about his desires for family in the future. Matthias asked him silly questions, “what’s your favourite food? Season? TV show, past or current? Do you sleep with one blanket at night or several?” His mind was whirling - what did any of these things have to do with a simple, co-worker relationship? Perhaps Matthias was searching for friendship to blossom between the two of them? But when the topic of Sindre’s love interests came up (Matthias flashed that damn smile and wiggled his eyebrows) he nearly choked on his tea.

 

“Single,” he managed to get out, dabbing a napkin at the corner of his mouth, “I haven’t had a boyfriend in a few years.” Matthias looked pleased at this as he leaned back in his seat and regarded Sindre with a look that left him feeling more vulnerable than he cared to experience.

 

“Same,” was all he said in response before looking out of the window next to them. Sindre squirmed in his seat.

 

Suddenly, Matthias reached across the table and grabbed Sindre’s hand. For a brief, terrifying moment, visions of him leaning over and kissing him flooded his mind. Heart hammering, he felt his face heat up; Matthias pulled his hand across the table and twisted it --

 

“Ah, shit,” Matthias said, looking at his Sindre’s watch, releasing his hand, “we gotta get back. This was fun, though! We should do it again!” he had the gall to _wink_. How easily he flirted with everyone and in any situation left Sindre stunned. It seemed to be his natural form of communication, which was startling and didn’t make much sense to him, since social situations as a whole left Sindre exhausted. He enjoyed his time with specific people (the number of them he could count on one hand), and it was an effort to carry on a conversation with even his favourites. His family often thought it strange he worked in such a people-orientated career. While he didn’t gain any energy from being around people, he was excellent at putting on a charming face and his deep, velvet voice seemed to lure almost anyone he had his sights on towards him - which is what made him so excellent at his job.

 

Returning to the hotel, Sindre found it hard to school his expression to something more neutral, rather than the current smile that was currently making his cheeks sore. It was also very cold outside, he told himself, and that was the more likely culprit for his sore cheeks, rather than smiling so much because Matthias had grabbed his hand again while they ran through the rain.

 

The smile stayed, however, throughout the majority of the afternoon and he found himself quite unable to concentrate on any of the presentations or give his full attention to potential colleagues when they approached to shake hands and exchange information. He was lucky that they made a good team - Matthias was so keen to perform well that he stepped in and charmed anyone that may have felt slighted by Sindre’s lack of attention. Matthias had held his hand. Even though it was just to pull him along faster through the rain, it had been warm and wonderful and he could easily pretend it meant something more than mere convenience.

 

By the end of the evening, exhaustion began to set in and he collected his bag and things at a sluggish pace. He wasn’t learning anything new, but Matthias was soaking up the information like a sponge and gaining much needed networking experience. Tomorrow morning there were no presentations and the afternoon was reserved simply to build connections and exchange information. As Matthias had so excitedly said, he’d get to see Sindre ‘in his element’. It was for those events that their boss sent Sindre on as many trips as he did.

 

They waited for the elevator that would take them to their floor in tired silence. The wind outside was rattling the doors in the lobby, rain pelting the windows. A fellow conference goer made her way toward them, pausing at the elevator bay. She waited with them for a moment, but when the carriage arrived with a merry chime and the doors slid open, someone called her attention and she wandered away.

 

Sindre stepped inside, then Matthias, no one else followed. They would be alone in the elevator for 15 floors. Once the elevator began to move Sindre sighed and watched the numbers ticking by at each floor they passed. He wasn’t overly fond of elevators - or any closed in spaces. Every creak and groan had him jumping, on high alert; he never trusted elevators to get him to where he needed to go, but he could never be bothered to use the stairs either. The numbers above the doors flashed 11, then 12.

 

“You know,” Matthias said, shattering the silence that had settled between them. However, before he could say anything further the elevator jerked, the numbers above the door blinking out of existence, and the lights overhead flickered and went out. Emergency lighting slowly bloomed on, casting the elevator in an eerie, dull glow.

 

“What just happened?” Sindre tried to ignore the panic in his tone.

 

“Shit.”

 

“Did we stop?” It was a useless question to ask, and he felt ridiculous for filling the air between them with it. Matthias did not tease him for it, as he would have done had their roles been reversed, and instead reached across to punch at the buttons. Also useless, but at least he was doing something.

 

“The wind storm must have knocked out the power.” And as if on cue, the wind moaned up the elevator shaft, a noise that caused a shiver chase up and down Sindre’s spine. His clothes were still damp from their excursion in the rain earlier.

 

He hated elevators.

 

Matthias sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall, sliding to the floor. He seemed overall unconcerned, only mildly inconvenienced by this whole ordeal. Why was he not as panicked as Sindre felt? They were more than a dozen stories up off the ground, dangling in a box precariously, during a power outage in the middle of February. The cables holding them in place could, theoretically, snap at any moment. Or the power could come back on, some small part of his brain tried to rationalize. This part of him was very small and easily drowned out by concerns of how well ventilated the elevator was. Could they suffocate if trapped here long enough? The air certainly felt stale, already… He missed the view of mountains and wide, open skies. Dear god, he was going to die. He slumped to the floor and tried to calm himself.

 

“I guess we’ll just have to wait until we start moving again,” Matthias sighed again.

 

He _hated_ elevators.

 

Twenty minutes in the dim light and listening to the howl of the wind around them felt more like 20 hours. Matthias was all but mute for once in his life and Sindre found himself longing for his incessantly, cheery prattle. He shivered in his still-damp clothes, longing for the power to return, internally begging whatever powers that may be observing him right at that moment to, ‘ _please, please, please let us survive and the power to come back and us to get to our floor so I can take a very long, very hot shower and go to bed and sleep until noon tomorrow._ ’

 

Matthias cleared his throat, “So, what’s your favourite colour?”

 

“Pardon me?” Sindre’s teeth were beginning to chatter and he wrapped his arms tight around himself. He was going to die in a metal box by either falling to his doom, suffocating, or by freezing to death and Matthias wanted to know his favourite colour? “Why would you ask that?” he ground out.

 

“Just makin’ conversation,” Matthias shrugged, “and distracting you. You seem tense - hey, are you cold?”

 

“I’m fine,” he lied through his chattering teeth.

 

“Come ‘ere,” Matthias reached over and put his hand on Sindre’s shoulder; Sindre flinched, then couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the warmth. “Don’t be so stubborn, you’re freezing.”

 

“No, I’m fine.”

 

Matthias laughed and scooted himself closer, cornering Sindre with his warmth, sliding one of his arms around his back and practically pulling him into his lap.

 

“Go back to your corner,” Sindre tried, weakly, to push Matthias away, but he was already beginning to soak up the heat from Matthias’ body greedily. Matthias was looking down at him with wide-eyed concern. Sindre’s chest did something funny - even in the dim light he had striking features. And when he looked so serious… Sindre chewed on his bottom lip hard enough to hurt, to distract his mind from the direction it was threatening to turn towards. He was just too damn sexy.

 

Matthias began to rub his hands up and down Sindre’s arms to warm him. He said, “Aren’t you Norwegian? Why are you so cold?” He pulled Sindre closer, forcing his cheek against his chest, enveloping him an embrace that was far too intimate, but wonderfully warm, so Sindre didn’t bother protesting.

 

“Yes,” he snapped, “but this isn’t _Norway_ , is it? I’m climatized to Vancouver. Also, my clothes are still a little wet. How are you so _warm_?” He couldn’t help but add that last bit. Matthias was radiating heat.

“I’m a walking furnace,” he chuckled, his laugh rumbling deep in his chest against Sindre’s cheek. “I mean,” he added, “it’s chilly in here, but I’m alright.” He shifted his body to find a more comfortable position. Sindre’s heart was hammering.

 

This could not be happening. He never, even in his wildest dreams, could have anticipated the weekend including this situation. He had spent hours carefully considering every possible outcome, and none of those scenarios involved him wearing rain-dampened clothing in a freezing, stalled elevator, pressed up against Matthias’ chest, whose hands were rubbing his arms with a sort of tender ferocity. He was just being polite, he reminded himself, _friendly_ , even. He was a naturally nice guy, after all, he’d probably try to warm anyone he was trapped in an elevator with. ‘ _Matthias is just being nice_.’ He repeated this to himself, forcing his breaths to come and go evenly, his eyes sliding shut as he concentrated only on getting warm and not whose hands were now rubbing soothing circles into his back.

 

“Are you concerned?” Matthias asked quietly. Sindre tried to reply, but his attempt only resulted in a gasp as his voice got lost somewhere between his throat and his lips. This crush was getting out of control; Sindre was no longer shivering just from the cold. Matthias still smelled faintly of this morning’s aftershave, but now also of chocolate, reminiscent of lunchtime, and rain water. He couldn’t think of anything to possibly say, so instead leaned against Matthias. He found himself happily pretending that this situation was more than it was, letting himself enter into the land of unrealistic possibilities. Matthias with his arms wrapped around him, but perhaps they were on a couch or, his heart skipped a beat, in bed, warm and cozy.

 

His eyes flew open as Matthias stopped rubbing his arms and back, and enveloped him in tightly in another embrace, dropping his head down and nuzzling into Sindre’s hair.

“God, you smell so good,” he murmured, voice muffled and breath hot against Sindre’s neck. Sindre wondered if perhaps his heart might stop beating altogether. For all the open flirting Matthias did with everyone, a comment like that still felt strangely intimate, cracking Sindre’s carefully crafted belief that Matthias was simply being friendly. Especially when he pressed in closer, hugging Sindre tighter. Sindre stiffened and Matthias seemed to snap out of whatever possessed him in that moment and he sat straighter, pushing himself away from Sindre a bit, creating cold distance between them.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, “I just… you’re just so close and I…” They stared at each other in the dim glow of the emergency lighting, Sindre frozen with his heart beating in his throat; he didn’t dare move for fear of shattering the illusion he had created in his mind. Matthias was pulling away and he wanted to cling to him, not only for warmth but also because of the stirring in his chest, that desire to be closer to Matthias which had steadily grown since the day they first met. His breathing was coming fast and shallow. He tried to steady himself, to dismantle the thoughts of simple domesticity he had envisioned only moments ago, to wipe away those pesky emotions and plant himself firmly back in reality. _This_ is why he had thought attending the conference together was a bad idea. Not only was Matthias green at his job, Sindre’s crush was gaining momentum and soon he would be in danger of getting hurt.

 

They call them _crushes_ for a reason.

 

“Sindre,” Matthias said his name, not that ridiculous nickname, like he owned it. Sindre had barely just began to convince his heart to return to a normal pace and now it was running away again.

 

“Matthias,” it came out as a whisper, and before the last syllable was past his lips, Matthias was leaning in and kissing him. Any thought in Sindre’s head was immediately turned to white noise. He felt his breath hitch for what seemed like the millionth time in the span of two minutes. He reached out a hand, shaking, and ran it up Matthias’ arm, his neck, and pressed it to his cheek; his jaw was scratchy with new stubble already growing in. He brushed his thumb against the contour of Matthias’ cheekbone before pushing his hand up into his hair, splaying his fingers. Dammit, this must be a dream or some sort of vivid hallucination. But, Matthias’ mouth moving against his own felt so solid, their breath mingling had a sensation that could only be described as reality.

 

Matthias was kissing him.  

 

“Oh god, Sindre,” Matthias whined, pulling him closer, his hands wandering their way up and down his back, one of them finding its way into his hair and gripping tightly. “You’re so amazing, you,” whatever he was about to say was swallowed up between them. He tried several times to express himself verbally, failing between quick pecks and longer kisses that had their lips sliding together.

 

“Idiot,” Sindre breathed into his mouth, “stop talking.” A burst of confidence took him over as he shifted his weight, straddling Matthias’ lap and kissing him deeper.

 

The chill Sindre had previously felt seemed to have bled away and he now felt only warmth. His skin was tingling. Matthias’ breath was hot against his mouth when they paused, briefly, gasping. They kissed again, fevered and searing and Matthias’ tongue lapped at his lips until they parted, sweeping into his mouth, unapologetic and eager to explore. Matthias leaned into the kiss, bruising and delicious until Sindre was light-headed and he moaned, arching into the hand kneading circles into his hip. He inhaled sharply through his nose.

 

Matthias broke away, eyes darkened and lips shining in the gloom. He never could cease talking for very long, and he panted, “I have wanted you since the day you yelled at me for breaking your mug.”

 

“It was a nice mug,” Sindre sulked and Matthias chuckled. The sound chased a shiver down Sindre’s spine.

 

“It was a cheap mug from a tacky souvenir shop.”

 

“It was _my_ mug.”

 

Matthias chuckled again and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. “You’re so sexy when you’re worked up and passionate. Like last night when talking with new clients. There’s this look that comes over you and--” he hummed, trailing feather-light kisses down the column of Sindre’s neck. He didn’t finish his thought, and swore instead, gathering Sindre in his arms and slowly lowering him to the floor. “Thank you storm, thank you power-outage, thank you stalled elevator.” He nipped between each thanks, Sindre clutched tightly at his shoulders, desperately trying to swallow away the breathless sigh that was threatening to spill through his lips. “Thank you _Freyja_ ,” Matthias concluded his mantra.

 

Sindre wondered if he should mind being lain down on the floor of an elevator, where god knows what was on the bottoms of the shoes of the people that stood there previous. However, with Matthias biting down on his earlobe, he really couldn’t find it in him to care.

 

A sigh finally escaped him and he tugged at Matthias so their lips could meet again. They kissed like teenagers, too much tongue and not enough control. One of Matthias’ hands sneakily found its way inside and up Sindre’s shirt, splayed across his chest, thumb sweeping circles against his skin. If this was some sort of dream, Sindre never wanted to wake up. Not when Matthias was solid and warm under his own wandering hands and he was melting into putty beneath Matthias.

 

Too caught up in each other, neither of them noticed when the lights overhead flickered back to life. Then the doors chimed and slid open and Sindre stiffened and shoved Matthias aside. He tilted his head back to look up at the shocked expressions of several hotel staff peering curiously into the elevator.

 

“Oh! Hello!” Matthias said easily, springing to his feet and dusting off his pants. He held a hand out for Sindre, who took it tentatively, and hauled him to his feet. “We didn’t expect the power to come back on so soon!”

 

“It’s been out for a couple of hours, sir.”

 

“Right,” Matthias cleared his throat, “well. What floor is this? Fifteen? Wonderful! That’s us. Thanks for the rescue!” He saluted the small crowd and pulled Sindre from the elevator and down the hall to their room.

 

They burst through the door and Matthias collapsed back against it as it shut, laughing.

 

“Oh my god,” he gasped, wiping his eyes. “Oh my god.”

 

Sindre didn’t bother finding the lightswitch, wandered towards his bed and sank into it, turning his face and hiding in the pillows, willing himself to not feel utterly mortified. He wondered if any of those staff knew who he was and who he worked for and how much of the scene would make it back to his boss. This was not good news. He heard Matthias get to his feet and the rustle of his clothing as he made his way further into the room, followed by the telltale sounds of fabric sliding across skin and dropping to the floor. The bed depressed and Matthias crawled onto it, over Sindre, his warm breath ghosting across his neck.

 

“We should get some sleep,” he said, dropping a lazy kiss to Sindre’s temple. He didn’t dare move and turn his head to meet Matthias’ lips. He was too exhausted.

 

“Here?” He said into the pillows. Matthias moved away towards the end of the bed and started to remove Sindre’s shoes.

 

“Not if you don’t want me.” He said evenly, pulling off his socks next. “However, I’m not keen on the idea of spending another night listening to you sigh heavily and toss and turn for hours and hours.” Sindre felt his face flush deeply and he was thankful Matthias could not see it. He managed to work the blankets out from under Sindre and finally sidled up the bed, pressing himself along Sindre’s back. “Is this okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Sindre mumbled. He managed to make himself useful and worked open his tie, sliding it free from his neck and letting it fall to the floor next to the bed. He didn’t give much thought to the fact that Matthias was practically naked and laying next to him; he’d deal with those consequences in the morning. Right now, he was too tired and embarrassed to care about much of anything.

  
“Night, gorgeous,” he could hear that damn smile in Matthias’ tone and Sindre rolled his eyes, “sweet dreams.”


End file.
